


Star Spangled Man with a Plan

by Hobbit69



Series: A Moment Out of Time [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky, Established Relationship, M/M, Rescue Missions, Rimming, Spit As Lube, Top Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7440646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbit69/pseuds/Hobbit69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve arrives in Italy only to discover that Bucky has been captured, so he mounts a one man rescue mission to get the love of his life back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Spangled Man with a Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I really wanted to continue this series (and as some of you may know, I've been super busy with a couple of multi-chapter stories currently being published), so here we go.  
> Enjoy Bucky's rescue!!

Frustrated, Steve tossed his show shield aside. Peggy Carter followed him into the room. Her attempts to sooth him fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t a show dog. He didn’t want to perform for anyone. He wanted to protect Bucky, with whom he’d had a secret relationship since they were fifteen. He wanted to see Bucky. To touch him. To talk to him.

Steve huffed thinking of Bucky, of the men who had booed him off of the stage.

He didn’t want to hear excuses as to why the men encamped here had booed and hackled him.

“They’re upset, Steve,” Peggy was saying. “More than three hundred men from the 107th division were captured-“

“What?” Steve demanded, whirling on her.

As Peggy gaped at him, Steve strode through the tent and across the camp into the operations tent, where he found Colonel Phillips.

“Don’t you have a show, Captain?”

“I need a list of the missing men from the 107th.”

Colonel Phillips glanced over Steve’s shoulder at Peggy. “You and I are going to have a conversation that you are not going to enjoy.”

Steve didn’t bother to defend Peggy. Bucky was more important. “Please,” he begged. “I just need to know about one soldier. Sargent James Buchanan Barnes. B-A-R-“

“I know how to spell,” Phillips interrupted. He stepped away from the strategy table and picked up a slip of paper from the desk in the tent. “I’ve been signing these condolence letters all day, but. . . the name _does_ sound familiar. I’m sorry, son.”

Steve felt his stomach plummet. “We have to rescue them.”

“They’re thirty miles behind enemy lines in a heavily secured facility,” Phillips said.

“You know where they are?”

“Yes. And I don’t have time for this. You should go get ready for your next show.”

Steve stood before the map on a bulletin board, finding a pin with a black banner on it. He studied the map, the terrain, the location, and made a decision; one that he didn’t even have to think about.

His spirits faltering, Steve left the tent. Bucky was everything to him Bucky. . .  was the light. He didn’t believe that Bucky was dead. He _couldn’t_ be. Steve would know. He would feel it. Bucky held the other half of his soul. He would feel it if Bucky were dead. If soulmates were real, Bucky was his. He was necessary for Steve’s survival. Taking a deep breath, Steve trudged into the show tent and began packing.

Peggy entered the tent moments after Steve. “I’m sorry about your friend,” she said, seeing him thrust a brown leather jacket into his rucksack, Peggy asked, “What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“I see that. Where are you going?”

“I’m going after him.”

“Steve,” Peggy began. “You can’t. he’s thirty miles behind enemy lines.” 

Steve pushed past her and tossed the rucksack into a Jeep. 

“Steve! You cannot mount a one man mission to rescue your friend.”

Steve moved to the Jeep’s driver’s door. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, his gaze meeting Peggy’s. “Watch me.”

“Steve.”

“I’m not leaving him!”

Eyebrows raised, Peggy nodded. “Meet me at the air strip.

Confused, Steve agreed.

Two hours later, Steve was in the back of a plane, Howard Stark at the stick, peggy in the co-pilot seat.  “Are you sure you wanna help me? There could be trouble.”

“We’ll deal with it,” Peggy replied.

As anti-aircraft weapons fired on them, Steve adjusted his parachute. “Head back when I jump.”

“How’re you supposed to get back?” Howard asked. “Walk?”

“We can’t just leave you,” Peggy said.

“Don’t worry about me,” Steve ordered. “Just go.”

“You can’t give me orders.”

“Sure I can. I’m a captain,” Steve smirked.

And he leapt.

The air rushed past him, refreshing. He didn’t think about what Bucky was going through, what was being done to him. It was hard to think of what the people who had him had already done. He _couldn’t_ even think about the possibility of Bucky being dead. 

As soon as he landed, Steve shucked his parachute. Finding and entering the enemy camp was easy. Low, behind brush, he watched canopied trucks allowed into the secure compound. If he could get into a truck, he could get inside. As the last truck in the convoy passed, Steve seized his opportunity. 

With his shield, Steve slipped inside, landing gracelessly on his bottom; only to be met by two armed Hydra operatives.

“Fellas,” Steve greeted. You could take the boy out of Brooklyn, but you couldn’t take Brooklyn out of the boy. 

As each Hydra agent attacked, Steve deftly knocked him unconscious and tossed him out of the back of the truck.

Inside the compound, Steve was able to stealthily slip past the Hydra agents on patrol, knocking out those in his way. When he found the prisoners, he scanned each face for the steely eyes that had always lighted when they landed on Steve.

“Who’re you?” asked the man with a bushy blond mustache. 

“Ugh. . .” Steve began, unsure how to answer. “Captain America.”

As he headed toward the stairs he’d surmised would lead to the prison (dungeons as Steve thought of it), he heard one of the men as, “Who?”

Steve didn’t have the time or inclination to explain what and who Captain America was. He had a mission. 

Breaking the lock, Steve said, “I’m lookin’ for Sargent James Barnes.”

“Those bastards to ‘im down took the lab,” the man who’d first spoken replied. “No one taken down there comes back.”

Steve’s stomach dropped. Images of Bucky tortured, in pain, calling for him, danced through his heads. Shaking it off, Steve ordered, “Get up and outta here. I’ll go down and get ‘im.”

He left the men he’d released and made his way through the facility and into the lab with more stealth than he’d known he possessed. 

Bucky was alone in a room, strapped to an exam table. His eyes were glazed and he was whispering. He didn’t notice Steve enter, nor did he acknowledge that Steve was saying his name.

“Barnes. 3255. . .”

“Bucky?” Steve asked, touching Bucky’s face. “Sweetheart, wake up. We gotta go.”

Bucky’s mouth quirked slightly and he gazed dreamily at Steve. “Steve. . .” he sighed, blinking slowly, as if drugged. 

“Hi, honey,” Steve said, kissing Bucky’s forehead. “I thought you were dead.”

Bucky grinned and replied cheekily, “I thought you were smaller.”

Smiling, Steve cut Bucky’s straps and helped him stand. “You were there, so you know I’m not. C’mon. We gotta get outta here.”

Steve held Bucky against him and they made their way to a catwalk that led to an exit. He was so focused on getting Bucky out of the Hydra compound. He didn’t know what the scientists had wanted with Bucky, but Steve _had_ to get him out. It was his mission. 

Then. . . Johannes Schmitt stepped onto the catwalk.

“You’re better than I expected, Captain,” he sneered. 

Steve ducked out from under Bucky’s arm and helped him lean against the railing. “I hear that a lot, actually,” Steve answered.

“I see Dr. Erkskin finally got the type of specimen he wanted. Good. Pure.” Steve said nothing as he moved toward Schmitt. “It was good of him to perfect his serum for you.”

“That was your choice,” Steve argued. “You had the opportunity to wait for the serum to be ready for you, but in your stupidity and impatience, you rushed him.”

Schmitt attacked with a vengeance, knocking Steve to the metal catwalk. Bucky began to move forward in order to help Steve, but Steve scrambled to his feet, and socked Schmitt in the jaw, holding out a hand to stop Bucky who had surged forward. 

When Schmitt turned, they discovered what lurked beneath the handsome man’s skin. When he tor off his own face, they saw that his skull was exposed, covered in a scarlet film. Upon seeing it, Bucky made a sound of disgust, “You don’t have one of those, do you?”

Steve shook his head and began to stride toward Schmitt and Zola, who cowered behind the red-skulled man. Schmitt, however, pressed a button and the catwalk retracted. Bucky grabbed Steve from behind, to ensure that Steve didn’t jump keeping him close against his chest.

“Better luck next time, Captain. Give my regards to dear Dr. Erkskin,” Schmitt said as something below them exploded. The two men disappeared through the door that Steve had been headed toward.

“Steve?”

Steve turned to Bucky. Resolved to get Bucky out, Steve led him to a set of stairs leading up, away from the flames licking at their ankles. “C’mon. This way.”

When they reached the top, Steve made Bucky cross a beam to the side with an exit. Steve held his breath for every moment Bucky crossed the flame pit. The beam gave way when Bucky had nearly reached the other side. Grabbing the rails on the other side, Bucky pulled himself over.

And Steve breathed again.

Bucky looked over at Steve, then down again. “There’s gotta be a rope or something.”

“Go!” Steve cried over the roar of the fire. “Get outta here!” 

Slamming his hands against the railing, Bucky shouted, “Not without you!”  

Sighing, Steve bent an opening in the rail. _The things he did for Bucky Barnes._

He backed up as far as he could and, taking a deep breath, ran and leapt, flying across the gap toward the love of his life. 

Bucky cried out as flames rushed between them, but calmed as Steve emerged, crashing into the railing. Grabbing the captain, Bucky helped Steve over the railing and immediately wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in Steve’s throat. 

“I’m here, Buck.”

“I know, buddy. M’sorry. Just need a minute.”

Steve held Bucky against him, his lips in Bucky’s dark hair. “We gotta go, sweetheart.”

“Yeah. I ain’t dyin’ in fire.”

Grasping Bucky’s hand, Steve led Bucky from the inferno.

Once they were out of the building, Steve and Bucky were met by some of the 107th, the man with the bushy mustache chief among them. 

“You okay, Sarge?” an Englishman asked Bucky.

“M’fine.”

“Who the hell are you?” The blond asked, striding toward them.

“Dum Dum,” Bucky warned. 

“Why did you come? How did you get in? How did you know we were here?”

“Dum Dum,” Bucky said. “This is Steve.”

“Steve?” Dum Dum asked. “ _Your_ Steve?”

Bucky nodded.

Dum Dum nodded back, then held out a hand to shake Steve’s. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Steve.”

Steve glanced at Bucky, one gold eyebrow raised. “I may have told one or two people about my friend who sales war bonds. I didn’t know you were the show comin’ in.”

Steve looked at the men around them. “Let’s move out. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” As the soldiers around them took the weapons and supplies they could, Steve turned to Bucky. “You didn’t get the letter I sent?”

“I probably did. I haven't been back to base camp in nearly a month. I was supposed to go back two days ago, but. . . I knew a USO tour was comin’, but they didn’t say Captain America was comin’.”

Steve nodded. “You okay to walk some tonight? We need a safe place to camp.”

“‘Course,” Bucky replied, picking up a rifle lying on the ground.

***

Sitting beside the fire in the camp, Steve and the 107th had set up, Steve watched Bucky duck out of camp, into the trees surrounding them. Since they’d begun this journey three hours earlier, Steve had wanted to get Bucky alone. They hadn’t seen one another in six months and it was going to be an eventful reunion.

Excusing himself, Steve stood and slipped into the trees after Bucky.

Thinking that Bucky would walk to the river, Steve trudged west, careful to be quiet in case any of the enemy were to hear.

When someone seized his leather jacket, Steve didn’t fight. His instincts and senses told him that it was  Bucky. Lips crushed hungrily over his and Steve returned the kiss with equal furver. Steve flipped their positions and. pressing Bucky against the tree, ravaged his lips. Gripping Bucky’s dark green shirt, Steve tugged, buttons scattering, save the last when Steve had Bucky bared from the waist up, he shrugged out of his jacket and the top of his Captain America costume. 

Steve pulled Bucky against him, basking in the feeling of Bucky’s skin against his. Suddenly, the realization of how close he’d come to losing Bucky hit him. He held Bucky so tight that Bucky grunted, but didn’t complain. “M’here, babydoll,” Bucky soothed, understanding the problem. “M’here. You got me out.” Bucky’s hands ran over Steve’s back. He kissed Steve’s ear, reassuring, soothing, loving. “Ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby.”

“’Til the end of the line,” Steve whispered.

“That’s right, pal. And this line don’t end. Ain’t _ever_ gonna end.”

“Love ya, Buck.”

“Yeah, babydoll. Love ya, too. Now, fuck me against this tree. I need to feel ya inside me. Need ya so bad.”

Without another word, Steve claimed Bucky’s lips, taking them savagely, without remorse, giving Bucky exactly what he wanted. 

_Steve._

Before he realized that he was doing it, Steve had both of them naked, and he was thrusting his hard length against Bucky’s. Bucky kissed Steve, his arms wrapped around Steve’s neck, and groaned. It didn’t matter that they were in the middle of the woods in enemy territory. Bucky _finally_ had Steve back.

At home, Steve and Bucky used petroleum jelly to have one another but. . . well, they _were_ in the woods in enemy territory. 

Saliva would have to do.

Crouching, Steve turned Bucky to face the tree and buried his tongue in the tight ring of muscle where he would take his pleasure. Bucky sobbed and pressed back against Steve’s searching tongue as he lapped and suckled at Bucky’s flesh, soaking the channel.

Shakily, Bucky reached back and, holding Steve’s head, pressed Steve’s face closer against him while Steve used his mouth to prepare Bucky’s body for his.

Unable to wait, Steve stood, wetting his hand with his own saliva, and stroked his swollen flesh, missing the only moistening agent with the precut leaking steadily from his cock. 

Turning Bucky toward him, Steve lifted him and sank in slowly. After half a year without Bucky, the slow, slick glide of him sinking onto Steve’s cock is almost enough to bring him to the brink. 

Bucky bit Steve’s shoulder to stop himself from crying out, which could bring an enemy, but would likely bring one of the men on watch in camp. That wasn’t something Steve and Bucky wanted. Homosexuality was something that could get them killed in the states, and even overseas. Bucky trusted the men in his squad, but he didn’t want any of them to know about his relationship, no matter how proud he was of Steve, or how much Bucky loved him.

Lifting Bucky higher, Steve thrust, nipping and suckling his chest and collarbone. Bucky panted, bouncing on the hard flesh impaling him, drilling the bundle of nerves that caused pleasure to skitter over Bucky’s body.

Steve didn’t touch Bucky’s cock. Bucky _couldn’t_ touch himself, so, while he helped Steve take them to the edge, he also rubbed himself between their damp stomachs. 

Overstimulated, Bucky grunted and fell over the precipice of pleasure, milking the flesh deep inside him, until Steve flooded him, filling him with his seed.

It took a few moments for Steve to catch  his breath as he stood, still holding Bucky’s body up against the tree, his face against Bucky’s glistening shoulder. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Yeah. . . but what a way to go.”

Snickering, Steve said, “Let’s get cleaned up and head back to camp before those guys come lookin’.”

After a quick, cold bath in the river, Steve and Bucky dressed. When he put on his shirt, Bucky looked down at his bared chest then back at Steve. 

“It was in the way,” Steve explained.

“So tearin’ it was more expedient?”

“Mhmm.”

Shaking his head, Bucky picked up his rifle and followed Steve back to camp, sitting beside the fire, where Steve had been before he left to be with Bucky.

From his stump next to the fire, Dum Dum looked from Bucky to Steve, taking in Steve’s wet hair and disheveled clothing and Bucky’s missing buttons and love bites. He grinned, meeting Bucky’s eyes.

“Have a good bath, Sarge?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are welcome.


End file.
